


Drifting Apart

by Ailanthium



Category: Prey (Video Game 2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailanthium/pseuds/Ailanthium
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Drifting Apart

“Good morning, Morgan.”

“Doesn’t mean much all the way out here,” Morgan noted, glancing towards the large window opposite from Alex’s mahogany desk. “...but good morning all the same, Alex.”

Alex grunted in response. He reclined further into his faux-leather chair, attention focused on a picture frame that rested in his hand. Inside was the last photo their family had taken together before departing for _Talos I_. Their expressions betrayed something short of animosity but far from affection. Morgan’s hand rested on her father’s shoulder, a scripted display of familial love.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he grumbled, lazily motioning towards the couch. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

“Reminiscing about the _good old days_ , are you? It’s hardly been a month since we had that taken,” she remarked, sarcasm dripping from her lips. Morgan reluctantly plopped herself down onto the couch, inspecting the chessboard laid out atop the coffee table. “You asked me to come all the way up to the Arboretum to play a game?”

“This is more than a game.”

“Then what is this?”

“I just… want to see something for myself.”

Alex rocked himself from off his chair, its faux-leather wheezing as it returned to shape. He slowly approached the coffee table and settled into an armchair across from Morgan. The pieces on the chessboard had already been carefully arranged by his personal operator. He plucked one of his pawns from the board, observing how the black chess piece reflected a thousand colors across its surface.

Somehow it reminded him of the Typhon.

“My turn first, then.” Morgan moved a white pawn two spaces forwards. “Now it’s yours.”

Alex silently moved one of his knights onto the field. Morgan moved another pawn forwards, and he did the same. Their pieces advanced cautiously, only capturing an enemy piece when it was absolutely safe to do so. Morgan couldn’t help but notice a listless look deep in Alex’s eyes. It was as if he was watching a movie he’d already seen a dozen times before, and she began to wonder how many times they’d played this exact same match.

“You’ve been practicing this, haven’t you?” Frustration furrowed along Morgan’s brow. “Wouldn’t have guessed that the CEO of TranStar would find time in his busy schedule to brush up on chess.”

“Everyone has their hobbies.”

Morgan didn’t believe that. Alex had always been singularly driven by his work, everything else falling to a distant second. His misaligned priorities had been the source of both admiration and frustration among his peers.

Eventually their forces dwindled in number, pawns clearing the field for more powerful pieces to advance. Alex moved his queen into the fray. It threatened the pieces surrounding it, practically inviting Morgan to capture it with her own. His rook would capture her queen in return— an even exchange. She lifted her queen from the chess board and held the piece between her fingers.

“Mikhaila…”

“What was that?”

“Mikhaila Ilyushin. The Chief System Engineer.”

“What about her?” Alex’s lips curled into a frown. “You work in Psychotronics, Morgan. There’s no reason to concern yourself with her.”

“Something happened between the two of us, didn’t it?” Morgan looked her brother dead in the eye. “The way she looks at me when we pass in the hallway, it’s like… she expects me to apologize for something. Like I’ve wronged her somehow. No matter how much I scrape my mind for some scrap of a memory, I keep drawing a blank.”

“Nothing good comes from digging up the past,” Alex warned with a sigh. “Focus on your work. What happened before we started testing neuromods, it’s all junk data. You knew that from the start. Getting rid of it leaves room for so much more.”

“That wasn’t _my_ decision.”

“I hope you’re not having second thoughts,” he grunted, glancing back down at the chessboard. “Now are you going to make your next move or not?”

Anticipation mounted in Alex’s expression and burned like coals in his eyes. He was just a kid at a science fair eagerly waiting for his papier-mâché volcano to erupt.

After several quiet moments of deliberation, Morgan settled her queen back onto the board and moved her rook in its place.

“Why did you do that?” He seemed genuinely bewildered by her choice. “You have to make sacrifices, Morgan. For the greater good.”

“ _For the greater good?_ What is this, Alex, a chess match or a therapy session?”

“I told you that this wasn’t a game. You need to understand what we’re doing here, how important all this is.” Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose, glasses scooting closer to his eyes. “I received a call from Mathias…”

“What did that _snake_ tell you about me?” Morgan hissed, standing from her seat. “And why are you monitoring my evaluations?”

“You’re a test subject now, Morgan. We need to know what’s going on inside your head. Remember that all of this, it wasn’t my decision. It was yours.” Alex scratched the stubble that grew from his chin down his neck. He hadn’t shaved for a few days now. “I didn’t mean for you to get worked up about this.”

“You don’t _mean_ for a lot of things to happen. Have you ever considered that you might be the common denominator?”

“Of course I have,” Alex answered, honestly and quietly. He slumped further into his armchair, leaving their game unfinished on the table. Both of them had lost any interest in continuing. “Of course I have.”

“Then if you’re done lecturing me about our ‘mission’, I have work to get back to.” Morgan turned away and started towards the door. “Maybe I’ll be able to get something done without you breathing down my neck.”

“You know Morgan, sometimes… it feels like we’re drifting farther apart.”


End file.
